


Open You Up (Again)

by Edwardina



Series: The Golden Rule 'Verse [3]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, M/M, PWP, Puppy Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-09
Updated: 2010-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-15 18:01:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/530107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edwardina/pseuds/Edwardina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Jensen spends the weekend with Danneel, Jared is driven into a Mastery frenzy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Open You Up (Again)

**Author's Note:**

> Possessive!Jared ahead.

Jensen's eyes are closed, the lids fragile and pink, and his mouth hangs open, shining wet from that kiss and the edges of his tightly straight teeth touching against his lower lip. His mouth, so used -- Jared knows that he just swiped his tongue where Danneel touched Jensen an hour ago, or whatever.

In the wake of the kiss, Jared's body vibrates with how bad he's been wanting this and how hard he's been having to shove it all down, and Jensen sways a little. Instinct rears hard, and Jared reaches out to catch his biceps, thinking he's going to fall over, but Jensen's down on his knees so heavy and so fast that Jared's hands wind up on his shoulders. Greedily, he grasps them over Jensen's short-shorn hair, feeling it slide through his fingers.

"Please," he hears Jensen huffing, and he worries for a split second that Jensen's going to beg him not to be mad about Danny. Before the foreboding feeling can really latch on, though, Jensen's voice is ghosting out, "Will you let me wear my collar again, Master? Please?"

It thunders through Jared's body, grabbing hold of that near-crazy possessive need of his and shaking it, making his blood all surge down into his cock. And now, Jensen on his knees like that -- Jared has such vivid sense-memories of Jensen grasping over his prick and desperately shoving it in his mouth like he can't possibly get enough of it, and any painfully tender swell of concern just turns hard into the heavy fucking drumbeat of ownership pounding in his chest and ears. Jensen, calling him Master -- right there, right then, not in a text, not in the dark, not prompted. Begging him for his collar, not even stopping, like some dam in him is springing cracks and leaking it all out.

"Please. Please, Master --"

"Down, Jensen. All fours," Jared says, his voice so firm and low that it doesn't even make sense to him as his own voice. He doesn't think at all about the words before they come out of him, and Jensen doesn't seem to think twice about obeying them. 

He leans forward and presses his palms to the tiles by Jared's feet, and Jared backs up dizzily so he can see Jensen there, boots still on the welcome mat, knees and hands on the floor, palms solid and fingers spread -- eyes looking up at him, then, vulnerable and yet obviously all too grateful to be given the order. The permission.

"We're goin' upstairs," Jared tells him. "Get up there."

Jensen glances over at the staircase, for a second looking uncertain, but Jared lands his hand on his own thigh in a sharp slap.

"Go on, puppy. Get up there. Let me watch you get up the stairs."

Something hardens in Jensen's face, like determined resolve, then immediately softens into the puppy face Jared's seen when Jensen's bringing him his brush in his mouth as he lumbers his way across the floor on his hands and knees, shoulder blades working, heading toward the stairs.

At that moment, the dogs both come trotting out from the kitchen, where they were happily laying by the heat of the running dishwasher. They'd obviously heard Jared's attention-commanding smack, and like Jensen, they'd obediently received the order.

"Good boy. Go to my room and get your collar out. I wanna see you with it when I get up there," says Jared, his hands finding their comfortable place hitched on his hips, shoulders square. There's a deadly calm in him just watching Jensen make his way to the stairs, then pause for just a moment before he crawls up onto them, knees and hands working together. Jared's never asked him to climb the stairs like that before, but he's doing it, he's doing it.

Jared snags Sadie by the collar before she can decide to go trotting up the stairs after Jensen and leads the dogs back to the kitchen, bribing them to stay put with a minute of ear-scratching and back massaging, not to mention an extra shake of Pedigree into their bowls. Then he locks the front door, that slide and click of the lock satisfying, and heads up after Jensen, taking each stair slowly. He usually takes them two or even three at a time, but he wants to give Jensen time -- and also make him wait.

And Jensen doesn't disappoint. There he is, perched anxiously back on his calves with his hands both still solidly planted on the carpet and his collar gripped gently between his lips. His body seems to strain to fullest attention the second Jared's in his line of sight, spine straightening.

Jared grins in spite of himself, loves how Jensen's eyes stay trained unblinkingly on him as he walks over. "Good boy... look at you. You want your collar, huh."

Gently, he takes hold of it and Jensen surrenders it to him; it's around his neck a moment later, each time Jared buckles it becoming easier, faster, more instinctive. Jensen's face is pink and slack when Jared grasps it and draws him to look up.

"That's where you belong, isn't it, puppy?" he says, sounding like an asshole, but Jensen just nods eagerly, eyelids heavy even though he's peering up at Jared. "On your knees for me, in your collar, huh?"

Another nod.

Jared squats, ungainly with his long legs, and attacks the buttons on Jensen's crisp, dark brown button-up, muttering, "Let's get you out of these. Get you all fuckin' naked for me."

He bets Danneel didn't choose the clothes Jensen's wearing, or anything, but her scent is on them, that warring combination of sandalwood and Dior and unfamiliar shampoo. All this stuff, all those smells -- they need to come off.

The jacket and shirt are shoved off quickly, leaving Jensen bare-chested, and Jared catches two fingers in the ring of Jensen's collar, lifting him up bodily, with Jensen's legs unsteadily helping to push. The mere sound of the snaps on his jeans popping open is getting Jared hard. Danny's not even there anymore, there's no need to rush so fast, but everything in his body is urgent and feels dangerous, like he could hurt someone -- hurt Jensen, even -- if he's not careful, doesn't control everything.

"Boots off," Jared commands, and Jensen bends awkwardly, kicking his boots and jeans and socks off in a few clumsy twists. His prick's fucking full-fledged hard in his boxer-briefs, and God, Jared loves him in that kind, the kind with stodgy little buttons on the fly that are a huge pain in the ass to have to undo when you've gotta piss and you're standing endlessly at the urinal fastening them and unfastening them. He never wears them, but Jensen apparently had a set of Calvin Kleins with button-flies and Jared picked them out for him three out of five days last week, loving the sight of his cock straining the buttons to their limits.

Jensen must've picked them out, worn them just for him --

"Oh, God, yeah, puppy," he lets out lowly, excitement hurtling through him and tearing his blood in two opposite directions, needed desperately in his cock and in his face.

Before Jensen can even respond to him, Jared grabs him on either side of his waist and moves him forcibly back till he's shoved onto the bed, shoved onto his back, the white CKs and the black collar around his neck warring. The gray-ish sunlight is unavoidable, full-blast, and Jensen's bathed in it, vulnerably pale in some places and forcibly tanned in others and red, red, red all down his neck. Jared can see the pink flush of his dick through the thin cotton of his boxer-briefs.

"Master," Jensen lets out in a hot, confused breath, his hips hitching and making his cock push at those buttons. Jared doesn't even know if he's just trying to get comfortable or if he's asking to be touched or he's so hot he can't help the wiggle.

"Fuckin' keep calling me that," Jared growls crazily, ripping at his own shirt and popping the buttons loose of their holes instead of patiently slipping them, one after the other. The button-up flutters down to join Jensen's on the floor.

Teeth momentarily giving his lower lip a cruel little bite, Jensen gets out, voice shaking from the pit of his lungs, "Master. Master!"

"'S right," Jared says, and he can't help it, spitting it out even as he wrestles his t-shirt up and off: "Master's gonna fuck the smell of that bitch right off you. Little puppy ass needs t'be all fuckin' full of your master's dick, huh."

If there's any part of Jensen still in love with Danneel, he can't see it now -- it's gone -- and all Jared sees is Jensen's hands momentarily grasping over his flushed face like he can't stand the heat of his own skin, all he hears is Jensen gasping, "Yes -- God, Master -- please --"

Jared's fingers fumble and tug at the buttons sitting hotly over Jensen's cock; his fingers dig into the waistband of the shorts and drag them down till his cock pops right out of the things, lewdly pink, and Jared hooks them ruthlessly down beneath Jensen's balls, crowding them up to his dick and letting Jared see everything, pulled out and put on display for him.

Fucking gorgeous, he thinks -- Jensen looks winded, glancing down at himself dizzily, then up at Jared working his own jeans open, and then abandoning himself totally to practically fainting back on Jared's mattress. His prick strains, jerking like a reflex, lifting excitedly from his belly before dipping heavily down again. 

Jared can imagine it covered in rubber, the condom slick from sliding in his girlfriend's cunt. The idea of that dick being buried in Danneel is confusingly hot and angering at the same time -- Jensen, capably nailing her, that cock of his solid and shoving and touching her inside -- Jensen, surrounded by and gripped and pulled toward orgasm by someone else.

Finally fucking naked, and sweating half from outrageous competitive jealousy and half from the excitement of having Jensen there in his collar, waiting for him, Jared gives Jensen a smack on the unsuspecting inside of his thigh, earning himself a jerk and sharp, surprised inhale.

"My puppy," he breathes back, and lets his thumb slide up the sensitive little separation between Jensen's balls, following it all the way up till his whole grip is around Jensen's dick.

"What should I do? What can I do? Master," gasps Jensen, the muscles of his ass and thighs squeezing and helplessly pushing his cock through Jared's fist.

"Tell me how bad you need your ass fucked after the way you played around with pussy all weekend," Jared responds, more nastily than he means to, more viciously jealous than he meant to let on, and jerks Jensen's dick demandingly as he knees up onto the bed. He can see his own naked bicep and shoulder blade and ass in his mirror out of the corner of his vision even though he's not even looking, hulking over Jensen.

Jensen's face twists for a second, like he's in pain or like the way Jared's jacking him off has him totally wrapped in it, like he can't feel anything else at all.

"Did you hear us?"

"Yeah," he replies lowly, fingers gripping Jensen's dick sweetly tight all the way up past the head before letting him free, palm smeary with the smell and feel of him. "I heard you makin' her scream."

Jensen's fingers grip over his face, and Jared doesn't know exactly how to read it when he covers his face like that -- if he's embarrassed or annoyed or at his wits' end or what -- but he doesn't give Jensen the time to stew in it.

"Did so good," he says, voice rough, "fuckin' her like that and not shuttin' me out of it --"

Jensen tenses. "I wouldn't --"

But Jared reaches up, catches his chin and holds it and leans in close. "I know, puppy. So fuckin' good for me. I love you." 

It's, like, the easiest thing ever to say, even though Jared knows it's also the weirdest, the stickiest, the thing that seems to be the most confusing to Jensen out of all the fucked up shit Jared says to him. He presses a kiss to Jensen's mouth, which doesn't move under his; after a moment, he gets a hot breath expelled right against his kiss and then a tentative press of lips.

Yes.

Jared rears up, drops down and flattens himself all along Jensen's body, their cocks smashed stiffly against each other's hips. Softly and shallowly, Jensen breathes, opens his mouth and lets Jared into it. Even if it's only in his head, Jared can taste Danneel all the way to the back of Jensen's mouth, unfamiliar, and their taste buds meet roughly he tries to lick it all away, fuck his tongue insistently in. After a few moments, Jensen touches the back of Jared's hair with ginger fingers, then grasps and holds a handful in his palm, both wanting and seeming unsure of whether he needs permission or not.

And even as he thinks it over and over -- _I love you. I love you so much_ \-- the thought isn't gentle in Jared's brain. It's insistent, overwhelming, and his belly's throbbing like fuck against Jensen's.

"I'm gonna fuck you," he whispers, lips still catching against Jensen's, tongue still wanting to slip out. "God, I'm gonna fuck you, Jensen."

" _Uh_ ," Jensen gets out, like Jared just slugged him.

They've got this gigantic bottle of lube that Jared ordered along with the collar, months ago -- it's sitting carelessly right on the bedside table. He doesn't bother to hide it away anymore, although he'd probably at least do so if Gen was going to come over and hang out. Jensen's hand slips from his hair as Jared leans back.

"Better get out of those," Jared breathes at Jensen, grasping for the bottle blindly while eyeing Jensen's CKs.

"Jesus," Jensen wheezes, and wrangles the underwear from around his prick and sac, knees and kicks them onto the floor. Now he's really naked, except for his collar, that band of black marking him as Jared's at the neck. It's so obvious and fucking lewd with its ring that's just begging for a leash.

The lube's cold on Jared's fingers; he rubs his thumb against them for a long moment, until it starts to feel warmer, skin-temperature, shifting on his knees until he's between Jensen's and forcing them awkwardly wide apart. He can still smell Danny, but under that, Jensen, all his skin and the smell of his cock and that nasty, musky, hot smell of lube in the warmth of his ass. Jensen's skin is so warm; his heart is thudding wildly in his chest. 

"Gotta open you up again," murmurs Jared, and presses insistently with his middle finger. Jensen takes it sweetly, all of it, all the way to the awkward hilt, until it's seated deep in there, and oh, yeah, his ass wants this. Got all used to it. Needs Jared to stretch and fill it to the fucking brim till Jensen's choking on his cock from the other side.

Jensen whispers out at him, "God, please," and a glance up at his face makes Jared think that he's remembering Jared's cock in him in a whole new way.

"Please what?" Jared asks, just to see what he'll say, and shifts his fingertip slow and smooth to rub against Jensen's prostate -- he knows where it is unerringly now from teasing it so much, it's a full-on instinct to go for it.

" _Oh_ my God," Jensen says, and for the first time right then, it's not a pained whisper, the sudden loudness of his voice making Jared wonder for a second if this is too intense for him just then. "Fucking --" His hips hitch up at Jared, cock reaching high and proud as he pushes up like that. "Fill me up, Master -- please," Jensen finally chokes out.

"God. You need it, huh, puppy?" he says, trying to coax more out of him, jamming his finger to touch deep before slipping it free and lining up his index finger along with it. Two fingers is nothing in comparison to his cock, and Jensen hasn't had it in his ass for a few days now, but he still takes it with his face only flinching for a second before just seeming to burn hotly.

"Need it," Jensen moans for him.

"Yeah," he breathes, and lets Jensen adjust to his fingers for a minute, cooing down at him with a burn of affection rushing through him. "You need your master to take care of you... get you all nice and wet and ready to get fucked..."

"'M so sorry," Jensen babbles. "Didn't stay open for you --"

"Shh. You couldn't. I wouldn't've let you even if you'd wanted to," Jared returns, knowingly stripping away the blame, the decision. "And now I get t'fuck your ass open all over again."

Jensen's stupidly full, sex and kiss-swollen mouth pinches shut tight for a second, then opens loosely around a sigh that sounds both relieved and thick with tension and need. Jared cannot fucking wait to sink into him -- not anymore. It's like his patience busts all at once just hearing that, seeing Jensen waiting.

"You want it like a good little puppy?" Jared asks, nudging Jensen's chin with his nose. "On your hands and knees, butt all up in the air for me?"

The muscles of Jensen's ass clutch at his fingers, a delicious hungry plea. " _Yes_."

"Roll over," Jared instructs, then, amused; it took him forever to teach Harley to roll over. Jensen does it so obediently, so eagerly, even as Jared's fingers are twisting in his hole, stretching it all around them.

God, Jensen's back in the wash of pale, bright sunlight -- skin clinging on to the vaguest of tan lines along his shoulders, all freckled and spine set low between muscles, his ass wider and more man-ish than Jared's (his is still scrawny, his thighs still easily getting stringy when he doesn't have the chance to work them as much) but hot, in total need of some slapping, and open for him. The crack of his ass is shining with the lube, and his hole's all deeply pink from the stress already. Jensen hauls himself onto his knees carefully, plants his hands against Jared's sheets and pushes back, baring himself and pressing himself against Jared's fingers at the same time.

Jared's prick, which he's in the habit of doing a stellar job of ignoring when Jensen's all fucking laid out and submissive and needy in front of him like this, jerks and lets out a drool of precome that hits and slides sluggishly down his own thigh.

Jesus.

"God," Jared mutters, gripping at himself and kneeing in closer -- close enough to smack his cock casually against Jensen's cheeks, let it prod against his balls hotly and rub between them in a way that makes Jensen choke on his breath.

And that's it. Fingers slip out, Jensen's ass clinging to them the entire way, and the head of Jared's cock nudges -- looking too huge, too bluntly big -- against Jensen's hole, slides against it for a moment, till Jared steadies it and feeds it in.

Jensen's body locks -- it always does --- but his ass doesn't, doesn't ever anymore, never keeps Jared out. Fucking slowly, so slowly, Jared presses his way in, watching Jensen's hole get wider and wider around the girth of him.

"'S my boy. Take it all. Y'know you can..."

But Jared doesn't force himself in all the way. He stops halfway, securely in and held in that tight ring, and pets Jensen's back with slippery fingers. Jensen is rigid; he whimpers but it's held so close to him that it's just a pitiful squeak.

"Yeah, it's openin' you right up again, puppy boy," Jared whispers at him. "Feel that in you, huh?"

"Master," his puppy whispers tensely.

"My sweet boy," he returns, and rests both hands against Jensen's hips, thumbs pressing into his cheeks to pry them open.

Just as deliberately, he pulls his hips back, taking his cock back slowly... till only the head's in... then eases forward again, and it's so slippery, so disgustingly wet in there that Jensen's ass takes him deeper this time, deeper. Jared works himself in persistently, barely clinging at his patience, till his hips grace Jensen's ass and he grunts, because God, he's almost all the way in, Jensen's hole's taking and holding his entire dick.

" _That's_ it," he booms, and Jensen moans back, heavily dropping his head and crumbling down to his elbows on the mattress. One hand balls up into the sheet, trying to grasp at it and probably only getting a wrinkle. Jared goes from gentle to savage in about a split second, following up the way Jensen surrenders so completely like that with a round smack to his ass.

Jensen gasps out, his insides threatening to pull painfully around Jared's prick, " _Master_."

"That's right. Say it."

"Master," gapes Jensen, somewhere into the mattress, and Jared buries himself in deep, to the hilt, cock somewhere up in Jensen's stomach, everything hot and vague and nothing at all like the wet tease of pussy around him muffled with the layer of a condom. The way he wants to fucking come in Jensen's ass is overwhelming, makes no sense -- just knowing his wad is touching Jensen inside, sitting so deep in him, makes him grasp at Jensen's hips, pull himself back, knock himself in deep again and wrench a horrible little "Master! Jesus! Master," out of his pup.

"That what you need?" There's a squelch of lube as Jared smacks his hips at Jensen unforgivingly, making him take it hard, hard after all that patience. His voice is pitched so low it's practically a growl. "Say it. Tell your master what you need."

"You. You, Master," Jensen gasps, and right then, he's perfection, Jared's entirely, Jared's obedient puppy.

"No one else? No one else fuckin' you like this?"

"No one else. Only you. Only you, fuckin' -- my ass an' -- bein' my master."

Jesus Christ.

It's the kind of thing Jensen's only ever said to him over text, the words his but not in his voice, not to Jared's face, not wheezing out of Jensen's chest like that. Jared's entire face and torso bloom over dangerously hot, making him feel crazy and desperate.

"Fuckin' hot little puppy," he exclaims, only he can't breathe and the words are just desperate wisps of air as they make it out of him.

"Just for you."

"God. God, Jensen."

Again, Jared's crushing Jensen down into the mattress -- he feels Jensen's knees slide out abruptly from under him, feels him bounce against the bed and back up into him even as he's coming down and crushing Jensen's hips. He's snarling, the weight of his body cramming his dick deep, and Jensen gives a half-shout, deliriously out of himself. Jared might think it's a shout of pain, only Jensen's hips writhe under his like he's trying to take more, trying to fuck himself on Jared's dick even though he can barely move. It feels so fucking good that Jared's sure Jensen could wiggle and milk him to orgasm, tug every fucking little gob of come from him. Jared wiggles back, thigh muscles bunching and straining as he humps Jensen's ass like he's rubbing his cock all over inside him, his chest heaving into Jensen's back.

Up close now, he can see Jensen's face, half in the mattress and half out, mouth smushed all plump against the sheet, his brows screwed up.

"Openin' you up so good," Jared pants, nose rubbing against Jensen's hair and the back of his ear. "Gettin' that hole all full of my cock."

"Fucking huge," breathes Jensen, with almost no enunciation.

Jared's gut tugs low just hearing that shit.

"Yeah, it is, an' you love it. Love that big ol' cock," he spits excitedly, and saying it just makes his guts throb worse, threatening close, the need to shoot off in Jensen's ass almost taking him for a second.

Like he's gonna do push-ups, Jared gets his hands on the mattress and arches his spine, pulling his dick slowly out of Jensen, shining wet. It pops out of him with a slick flop, brushes wetly against his ass cheek. Jared has to fight the urge to stick it back in, or to ride Jensen's crack till he's coming.

"Love it in your mouth, too, huh, puppy. C'mere. You wanna come choke on it for me?"

Fuck, it's the nastiest thing ever, but he doesn't think twice, doesn't think at all. He just leaves Jensen's hole straining open, expecting him, wet and dark pink inside, and casually slaps Jensen on the opposite cheek he did before. His dick is dripping not only lube, but a backload of precome that didn't have the room to even fully spurt out inside Jensen. It's rolling down the hot spine of his cock as he flops back, vaguely against the pillows, and Jensen struggles over on his belly, hands reaching for and grasping onto his waist, his hips. 

The hand that wraps around Jared is so warm and huge, nothing like any girl's, carelessly knowing just how to hold him. Jensen's heaving for breath, his hand sliding up the length of Jared's cock (sort of a long way even for his big hand) as if testing how wet it is, how filthy.

"Lick it," Jared suggests breathlessly. His stomach tugs in tight; he's still trying not to unload spontaneously.

Jensen glances up at him, then, glassy-eyed, and does. Licks him. Licks right up the back of his cock all the way to his knob, tongue flat, eyes trained on Jared's face.

Jared has to squeeze his wide eyes shut. Oh, God, oh God.

After that, Jensen seems to practically climb onto him eagerly. Jared, vision darkened by his eyelids, can feel his hips being locked down by Jensen's elbows and Jensen's lips sliding and the warm flashes of tongue roving over the head of him, and the way he sinks down, sliding him into a hot sensation entirely unlike that grip of his sphincter and the warmth of his ass.

"God, you take so fuckin' much of it," Jared grits out. His balls are clenching, and he can feel loads of precome throbbing and sliding their way out his dick -- feels sorry for Jensen, 'cause it's so wet -- feels like he wants to rub his cock into the velvety pocket of Jensen's cheek and slime it up, smear all that slippery drool all over his mouth, his whole fucking face. Jensen makes an eager, sensitive noise in response, like just hearing that makes him feel good somehow, and pumps Jared's prick with his fist as he tries to slide his mouth down to meet his fingers. It feels like Jared's really inside his mouth, a sensation he's never exactly felt before with girls sucking around the head of him and not much more. God, it's so weird, so good. Just knowing it's Jensen's mouth on him, it's Jensen who's letting out those huge, heavy exhales in warm huffs and sucking on him like he really wants it.

Jared never really touches anyone's head when they're trying to go down on him -- he doesn't want them to feel trapped, doesn't want them to think they can't stop whenever they want -- and he's only barely let his fingers graze over Jensen's hair, the first time Jensen did this in his trailer. But he wants to so bad, wants to feel Jensen's head bobbing in his hands.

Instead, he grasps his fingers loosely over Jensen's hair, a "Fuckin' God," making its way out of his mouth in a whisper, and settles one hand on the back of Jensen's collar, squeezing at it.

"Mmn," Jensen moans, all too brief and helpless around his prick.

The pit of Jensen's throat is so fucking silken soft and tight as Jensen tries to fucking swallow him alive, then backs up off him a second later, choking wetly on precome that sputters out of his mouth. It's so nasty, Jared can't help but look down and watch it drip over Jensen's bottom lip, watered down and heavy with saliva. It drips heavily into a tiny puddle on Jared's belly, and his thigh muscles all clutch up tightly.

"You okay?" he asks, voice shredded.

"Yesh," Jensen gets out, loose like his throat was just opened up and there's so much more he has to cough up.

Jared takes a moment to center himself, try and shove everything down and back, not pay attention to how slimy Jensen's wandering grip on his dick has gotten.

"Jensen," he says squarely, if roughly, "I'm gonna give you my load. Right in your ass. Where it fucking -- belongs." Jared breaks into a gasp, clenches his toes and holds himself back desperately. "How you want it? Get how you wanna take it."

For a minute, Jensen just stares up at him, like he's blindsided by the choices, or the way Jared's telling him to choose. There's no wrong answer, Jared wants to say, only he feels like he's gonna cream his own stomach without even moving if he's not careful. Then Jensen dips his head down, hides his face right in Jared's hipbone, cheek smearing in that puddle of spit and precome.

"Is it okay if -- will you hold my collar, Master, please," he whispers, thick and wet. "'S all I want. Please."

"C'mere, puppy," Jared responds, accepting the not-quite-decision, 'cause he wants to hold on to Jensen's collar just as much as Jensen wants him to. "Sit on it... like before. And look at my face. You have to look at my face."

"Yes," Jensen responds obediently, and though Jared is totally crooked on the bed, half propped on the pillows and half not with one leg dangling off the side of the mattress, Jensen fucking straddles him, stares at him dizzily.

In the daylight there's no way Jensen can miss the way Jared's sweating, how flushed he is, and Jared can't miss the way this is Jensen. Not the Jensen that sits uncomfortably in interviews or sprawls lazily on his couch and pinches his brows together as he goes over his lines or toes at his mark between takes or sasses him about being a moron when he misses his cue. This is _his Jensen_ , his puppy, letting Jared see him fumble awkwardly for Jared's cock and err several times before biting down on his lip and letting his head roll back in a momentary fit of weakness as he sinks back onto it, lets Jared slide wetly into his ass.

Jared takes his neck on either side, clenches at his jaw with his thumbs and holds the collar with the rest of his fingers.

"Good, puppy?" he asks, thumbs stroking and smearing at the wetness on Jensen's chin before tucking themselves against the grit of his stubble. "Gonna hold you by the collar --"

"Master, yes," Jensen ekes out, a painful shudder of fear visible in his eyes as he says it and lets Jared see him.

"'S my good puppy. Master's got you," Jared says, urging Jensen into motion with a rock of his own hips, and Jensen's eyes close heavily. He breathes out hard and awkwardly bounces off Jared's hips, hands and knees like the good puppy he is, Jared holding him in place by the collar, then opens his eyes to look down at Jared nakedly.

"'S it okay?" he whispers.

"Yeah -- God, 'm gonna give you such a big fuckin' load," Jared gasps, and it sounds ridiculous, but he's not exaggerating. His body's been struggling to come for five minutes and he hasn't let himself, but now, he's letting go, letting go, pumping against Jensen, up into his ass.

"Please," Jensen huffs, and Jared's eyes are wide but he can hardly even see straight. "Please -- need -- my master's -- come --"

"Oh my fuckin' God," Jared spits out, his body seizing from his shoulders to his knees, the throbs in his belly and balls borderline painful as they're finally allowed to bloom and jerk and pump his wad. His hands must grip tight on Jensen's jaw and throat, because Jensen goes stock still. Jared's load spurts out heavy and deep and he wonders if Jensen can feel it like he can, the grip of his ass and all that come hot and clinging around the tip of his dick. A gutted grunt fights its way out of his throat, and his prick pumps, twitches pathetically, emptying out every tug of jizz he's got in him, more shoving out just at the idea that he's leaving a load in his puppy. His puppy's taking it all for him. Asked for it. Needed it.

"Jeez," he finally gets out, and focuses from nowhere on Jensen's still face, clenched jaw and open eyes. Immediately, he loosens his grip, and Jensen's face relaxes to the point where his eyes almost cross.

Jared takes stock, even though his body feels like it's burning on the mattress, too hot, too sweaty and wrung out. Jensen hasn't even touched his dick, and it's the same pretty, wet-looking pink of his lips when he licks them. He smiles, and it feels sleepy, but his hand is all business when he drops it to Jensen's cock.

"Gonna come on me?" he asks, feeling so good and lazy and drawly. And even though Jensen flinches and drops his eyelids and makes some noise like he's gonna start crying instead of coming, Jared thinks it's good. Stroking Jensen off with his fist moving tight and slow, he pushes on, "Come on me, Jensen... fuckin' shot off in you so good... fuckin' filled your ass with my load... y'wanna say 'please' for me, puppy?"

"Please," Jensen whispers immediately.

"Good boy," Jared whispers back, hand steady. "Such a good boy. I like you askin' me 'please'."

"Please," his puppy repeats, and -- "Please," again, breaking slowly.

"You can come," Jared says. "I wanna see all your come, c'mon. Y'know who it belongs to."

" _Master_."

And Jared can feel him working up to it in a tizzy, feel vaguely the way his muscles are working in his belly and feel his cock push completely rigid.

"Who you gonna come for, Jensen," he asks roughly, letting his hand demand it.

"You," Jensen chokes out, sputtering even as his load's shooting up Jared's stomach, all thick and thrillingly hot. Jared stills his hand to just feel it pumping out for a moment, looking up at Jensen as he creams, brows knotted and face red. He watches Jensen's mouth form the words. "You. Master. You."


End file.
